Hold On
by DaHaloChick
Summary: Sequel to 'The Price of Death'. After running into Kaidan on Horizon, Zaeed finds Shepard in her room with his bottle of whiskey, and decides to do tell her yet another of his war stories. FemShep/Kaidan, Zaeed/FemShep if you squint.


_"I loved you."_

_"You betrayed everything we stood for. You betrayed _me_."_

Rowan slammed down the glass of straight whiskey as Kaidan's words replayed themselves in her head yet again. She had rehearsed the words she has said to him countless times to herself on their way to Horizon, but the flaw in her plan had been that, in all of those mental rehearsals, he had actually listened to her.

He had refused to hear her out.

"How can you say you loved me if you wouldn't even let me fucking _explain_!" she ranted to herself, filling her glass yet again from the bottle she had pilfered from Zaeed. She downed a large gulp of it, telling herself that the wetness in her eyes was from the burn of the whiskey going down her throat.

Still, the whiskey was easier to swallow than Kaidan's words had been. She had figured he would be upset at the situation, so his anger was no surprise, but she had lost her composure when he had accused her of abandoning him, of not even trying to contact him. She had been dead for two years, literally being pieced back together. How the hell was she supposed to contact him like that?

She understood his anger, she thought as she drained the glass. She really did. She couldn't imagine what she would feel if she had seen Kaidan after thinking he was dead for that long. What really got to her, she realized, was his selfishness.

During their brief talk, all he seemed concerned about was him and his own pain. How she had left _him_ behind, how _he_ felt betrayed, how hard it was for _him_ to see her again. He never once stopped to look at her, at the scars on her face and pain in her eyes, to wonder what _she_had gone through.

That wasn't the Kaidan she knew. The man she loved - or _had_ loved - was sweet, with a good heart, always inspiring her and making her laugh, always comforting her when things were at their darkest. She needed him now more than she ever had, and he had responded by crushing her beneath his cruel words. "And he had the nerve to say _I'm_the one that's changed," she said angrily as she started on her third glass.

Just as she was about to pour her fourth, her door opened. "EDI, I thought I told you to keep my door locked!" She didn't need anyone on the ship seeing her like this.

"In this instance, I felt it was in your best interest to ignore your order, Commander," she replied. "It is the first time that Mr. Moreau and I have agreed on something."

Rowan rolled her eyes, turning towards the door as it began to close behind her unwanted visitor. A pair of mismatched eyes glared at her, a grumble escaping his throat. "There's my god damn whiskey. What the fuck do you think you're doing stealing my stuff, Shepard?"

She simply grinned, holding out the half empty bottle to him. "Here, you can have it back."

Zaeed snatched it from her hand, glowering at her for several moments before taking a long swig himself. "You're piss drunk, Shepard."

"I'd be even more drunk, if you wouldn't have taken my whiskey."

"It's _my_whiskey," he said matter-of-factly, "And you don't need a damned drop more of it." He leaned against the wall, watching her thoughtfully. "Did your fucker of a former squadmate get to you that badly?"

She simply slammed the glass down again on her desk in answer.

Rowan's anger only seemed to amuse Zaeed, however. "Let me guess. Former lover of yours?"

"How did you..." Rowan followed his gaze behind her, to the picture of Kaidan on her desk. She grabbed it and flipped it face down.

He smirked. "Not like you to give up on anything."

"You don't understand what he said," she said, her words slurring slightly, "What it _meant_. After everything he and I had been through, he stands there and accuses me of betraying him!"

Zaeed scoffed. "He's an idiot, Shepard. I don't even know your damned history with him, or even care to, and I could see that." He took another swig from the bottle. "Let me tell you this story about this one fight I had with this bitch of a Krogan."

She groaned. "Zaeed, I can't deny that your war stories are fucking awesome, but I _really_don't need them right now."

"Shut up and listen." The tone he used made even her drunken mind pay attention. "He and I are tradings shots, getting nowhere. That doesn't fly with me. I knew I had to do something to get an advantage, or the fight would into a test of who could fucking go the longest without sleep. So, I figure, I can rush at him from the left or the right, 50/50 chance. I ran to the left." He scowled. "Wrong choice. He shot Jesse right out of my hand, the bastard."

"Now, I look forward, and a few feet in front of me is another gun, probably from someone else I'd killed to get to the krogan. I realized I had a choice; I could either grab Jesse, which would have been exactly what the bastard was expecting me to do, or I could take him by surprise and grab the other gun."

"You grabbed Jesse."

"Your god damn right I did. He got me good in the arm, but I was able to toss Jesse into my other hand and got him right between the eyes." He poked the same area on his own face. "After I make sure he's dead, I go over to the other gun on the floor. Turns out the bloody thing had no ammo left. If I would have picked up that gun instead of Jesse, I would have been a dead man."

Rowan sighed. "What's your point, Zaeed?"

"My point is, Jesse has seen me through more battles that I care to fucking count. Even when it could have cost me everything to hold on to her, I did it anyway. She's a reliable gun, and was until the day she stopped working." He looked her straight in the eyes. "When something makes you that fucking strong, you don't just let it fall. You pick it up and hold on."

Rowan sat there speechless, simply staring at him. He must have been satisfied with her reaction, she figured, because he pulled himself away from the wall and pulled her up by her arm. "Off to bed now, so you can sleep this off. Miranda will have a shitfit if she sees you drunk off your ass."

She turned to stumble down the small set of stairs to her bed, only stopping to screech in surprise as Zaeed's hand collided with her backside. "Come on, come on! I don't got all day!"

"Why the hell are you even helping me?" she asked, turning towards him and falling backwards onto her bed. He crossed his arms over his chest as she pulled her sheets over her body.

"You helped me with Vido," he said simply, "I'm returning the favor."

"Oh," she said simply, looking away in embarrassment. "Thanks."

He scowled down at her. "Besides, I need to make sure you're back up on your feet soon, because you owe me a fucking bottle of whiskey!"


End file.
